


On Invisible Wings

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [62]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, Searching for the Cure to the Calling, Swearing, War Table Operation: Contact the Hero of Ferelden (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 00:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19896739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonage.Prompt 4: The Hero of Ferelden receives the letter from Leliana for the War Table quest. How do they respond?Sevarra Amell and Zevran have left on their search for a Cure to the Calling. Things are going to hell in a handbasket back in Ferelden and Orlais. The Inquisitor and Leliana try to get word out to her about things.





	On Invisible Wings

(Skyhold’s Contemplation Garden)

Golden eyes twinkled in mirth to match the upward curve of deep red lips. The Witch of the Wilds and former Occult Adviser to the Empress of Orlais was clearly enjoying herself. Her gaze turned briefly to the dark-haired boy standing obediently at her side and softened.

“Truly? Your capable spymaster has been unable to make contact with the Hero of Ferelden?” Morrigan asked.

Inquisitor Trevelyan sighed and nodded her head. “Leliana has searched high and low, near and far, with nothing to show for it. We could benefit greatly from any insight she could give us if only someone could get word to her.”

“Pen your letter and have it to me by sunset. Perhaps I may be able to be of assistance in this matter.”

Morrigan wore a smile that brought to mind a cat having found and eaten the canary after the Inquisitor gave profuse thanks and turned to leave. Unlike some people, she knew a surefire way to get a message to her sister in spirit, not that she would bother to share that fact with that insufferable spymaster.

**

(Somewhere in the Anderfels, 2 days later)

Zevran felt his heart lurch with dread as he watched his wife coo softly to a raven that landed beside her in the shade of a stony outcropping near the mouth of the cave they’d spent the past few days hiding in. _How did I miss that one,_ the elf asked himself? _I’ve shot nearly every messenger bird that’s gotten in range of us for over a year!_

“Oh, you’re a lovely one, aren’t you?” the mage beamed as she held a gloved hand out to the ruby-eyed bird. “What does your mistress have for me, hm?”

“Amora, what is… that?” he gestured to the creature perched on Sevarra’s left hand while her right gently set about untying the small cylinder from its leg.

“One of Morrigan’s little pets: an enchanted raven. They have this clever trick of being able to become nearly invisible while in flight. Handy to have when you don’t want unfriendly eyes seeing your messenger bird.”

He cursed silently. _Invisible birds?! What will be next? Griffons sent to snatch her away to wherever it_ _is_ _this Inquisition keeps itself?_

Sevarra unwound the tiny message and whispered a spell. The scroll shimmered and then expanded to the size of a standard sheet of parchment. One end rolled out from the mage’s hand and did not come to a stop until it got past her feet.

“Well, whoever sent this apparently has quite a lot to say,” she smirked and set about reading the missive.

The former-Crow sighed raggedly and claimed a shady patch next to her and sat down. It wouldn’t do to roast himself in the unforgiving heat of the desert afternoon sun. Snaking one arm around her waist, he peered over her shoulder as she read. Without pausing her reading, the mage leaned her head against him. He didn’t recognize the penmanship of the letter, which intrigued him. He’d long since learned Leliana’s handwriting by heart, thanks to all the messages from her that he’d intercepted. This writing was more scrawl, whereas the former bard’s writing was neat and elegant. He waited until she reached the end of the lengthy scroll before peppering her with questions.

“Is it from Morrigan? What does she want, mi querida?”

Sevarra chewed on her bottom lip and scanned the scroll again. “Yes and no. It’s Morrigan’s bird and spellwork, but the message is from Leliana and one ‘Inquisitor Trevelyan,’ not that the name or title hold any meaning for me.”

Zevran pursed his lips with a scowl. He’d bet good coin that Leliana had this ‘Inquisitor’ pen the message just so that he couldn’t immediately identify it as one of her many attempts at contact. The fact that the Witch of the Wilds and the former bard were somehow willingly working together again was cause for concern; the two were anything but friends. While his beloved was civil in their company, he knew she preferred Morrigan’s more… frank demeanor over Leliana’s masks.

“As for what they want… they seem keen for information about ancient darkspawn. Apparently, there’s one calling itself ‘Corypheus’ and it has managed to gather itself an army of corrupted Templars. Ugh!” Sevarra shivered. “Corrupted templars serving a powerful darkspawn, now there’s a horrifying thought for you! You know this is making me think back on that predicament with that darkspawn calling itself ‘The Architect’ back in Amaranthine. Except that he only had darkspawn and ghouls as followers, not normal people. We eliminated him, as you well know.”

“Shit.” She quickly picked up the scroll after it dropped from her fingers.

“What’s the matter?”

“This Corypheus thing, it found a way to control the minds of Grey Warden mages. It… it tricked the Wardens in Orlais into thinking they were hearing their Calling.” She looked up from the message, ashen-faced.

He winced and held her tightly. He could feel her trembling. More than a few of the “apostates” she conscripted out from under the noses of templars and personally trained had been transferred to Orlais after word from Weisshaupt had demanded that she share some of the magical talent with Ferelden’s nearest sister-chapter. Life as a Grey Warden was far from easy, from what he observed over the years, but he doubted she expected her students to fall under the control of some powerful darkspawn mage and die against an army of the Chantry’s faithfulrather than perishing while carrying out their duty to protect civilization from the Blight.

 _Thank the Maker you weren’t there,_ he thought without a shred of guilt. He held her and stroked her hair until her sniffling and trembling abated. After a long period of silence, pierced only by an inquisitive chirp from the raven patiently sitting nearby, he spoke.

“What do you wish to do?”

What he _wanted_ to do was burn the letter, dispose of the bird, pretend neither had been seen, and continue on their way to Laysh. They still had a mission to do; one that would benefit many if they were fortunate. If they were fortunate, no Warden would have to face their final days alone in the Deep Roads with only crumbling ruins and darkspawn for company. Perhaps it was selfishness, but he was attached to the idea of growing old with the woman he’d married; it held far greater appeal than finding himself a widower on a day that would come far too soon if nothing was done about it.

She wiped her eyes on a sleeve. “Well, first, I’ll need to write back to Leliana. Feed the poor bird, by the way, love. It’s going to take me a while to work on the reply. After that, we continue on as before. We’re too far away to get there in any sort of time that’d be helpful. Nor am I all that eager to share my students’ fate should that Corypheus thing still be at large.”

The weight he didn’t know was pressing down on his shoulders got a little lighter. _Thank you, Maker,_ he thought in relief as he dug in a pouch for a bit of dried meat for the raven.

**

(Skyhold’s War room, 2 more days later)

“Well, what did her letter say?” The spymaster had to fight to keep her tone neutral. She wanted to tear the scroll from Eylarra’s hands and read it herself, but that would’ve been rude. And counterproductive; the letter was enchanted with protective wards. One of her scouts found that out the hard way, the poor man was still in the infirmary having his wounds tended.

“I’m not sure she’d be of much help, Sister Nightingale. She claims her knowledge is lacking where darkspawn magisters are concerned. She also sent this along.” Eylarra held up one the gaudiest belts the spymaster ever had the misfortune of laying eyes upon. It was an unforgivable attack upon her Orlesian sense of style, a true abomination of fashion. “For luck, she said.”

Leliana glowered and attempted to read over the Inquisitor’s shoulder. She instantly recognized the slanting rounded lettering that was a hallmark of Sevarra’s penmanship.

_Part of me wishes that I could help your Inquisition more personally because the danger of Corypheus and the Breach approaches the threat of even another Blight. I would also love nothing more than to avenge my former students, but Zevran and I have our own battles to fight, and I can only offer my confidence that you have matters well in hand._

_Regards,_

_Warden-Commander Arainai of Ferelden_

_P.S.- Keep your head up. I’ve found unexpected lights in the darkness in the people around me when things seemed almost impossible. When you find them, keep them close for as long as you can; the Maker is generous in that such people exist, but also jealous in that those same people are often the first ones taken when you aren’t paying attention._


End file.
